Remember this for next year.

[BlackHillsBill]

In my Sunday paper there is a six-column picture
of Minnesota ice fishers. The caption reads, "Some
of the 11,000 ice-anglers walk off the ice on Round Lake
after fishing Saturday in the Brainerd Jaycees $150,000
Ice Fishing Extravaganza in Brainerd, Minn. Billed as
the world's largest ice fishing tournament, the annual
event was moved from Gull Lake to the smaller Round
Lake because of ice conditions."

Don't worry that you will be one of only a handful of
fly fishermen among the participants. Do you really
think that 11,000 Minnesotans cavorting on thin ice
will figure there's anything unusual about one or two
carrying bamboo fly rods? All they need are a few
more entrants--one could in fact be all it took to
make the difference, to break the ice so to speak.
Some believe Minnesota came into the Union in
order to provide sports entertainment for South
Dakota. You come, too, next year. But be careful
with open fires at tailgate parties though. The
Jaycees sometimes forget to mention that.

[mac7x]

I've been considering ice fishing for some time now, but thought that I'd have to cut such a large hole, even with my meager casting ability, that some people might get upset. Especially when children and dogs started disappearing. Nice to know I'd be welcome.

[BlackHillsBill]

Welcome? Shoot, Mac, you'd
probably pick up at least 4 or 5K
of the prize money in the new
special category they'd be forced
to name. Remember these are
Minnesotans.

[cebfishing]

Ya, sure, U Bechha. Sounds good.
mac7x you do not need more than a whole large enough to get your fish through. Just bore about an 8inch hole in the ice, pace of your casting distance and have at it. Minimal drift and no need to use a roll cast unless the geese are flying low that day. It seldom gets much below -25 degrees that time of the year, so you can use standard mittens or lined gloves.
Chuck

[BlackHillsBill]

Chuck, don't waste yourself in worry over Mac.
Mac is a wily veteran of cold-weather fishing,
reputed to have hit a teacup at over six feet!
Of course he wasn't fly fishing at the time. But
why fuss over small points? It is widely known
that Mac often fishes far north of Boston, where
he successfully dodges the Royal Mounted and
simply ignores bears, lynx, and Norwegians.
Knowing no fears, he is a force to be reckoned
with. But your idea about mittens is first-rate.
His wife could fix them with idiot-strings so it
would be harder for him to misplace them, and
she could maybe darn his name onto each thumb.
All three. "Mac" would be enough. Everybody that
side of the border knows Mac.

Here is another thing to remember for next year.
In the colder climes, we fasten eagerly on every
harbinger of the trout season's being just around the
corner, including the age-old one. Today (3-4-06)
when I went out to feed the birds and squirrels, the
first robin was perched on our backyard fence.
I hurried back inside to report this to my wife, who
yawned and said, "Bill, have you had your eyes
tested lately? There was a whole regiment of
them on the front lawn last week."

Used to this sort of reaction, as all old marrieds must
be to survive, I shot back, "That's a flock. Well, I'm
glad you noticed too. I'm going to pack my rods and
head for the Black Hills in the morning."

"Down, boy," she said.